Karma's perception detached from universal order.

Space doffed its relativity.

Time flowed in a helical jumble.

Mass became nonsensical abstraction.

Somewhere, Karma saw a magpie flapping its wings in reverse descent through a cubic star. Its chortled calls sounded incessantly in flagrant contradiction to its unmoving beak.

Parallel to the magpie, a galactic tortoise swam in sheer emptiness, belching storms of flowers.

Then he realized the magpie and turtle were one and the same—heads of a chimeric hydra.

One that was looking directly at him.

With its million heads.

Suddenly, the scenes distorted, amalgamating into milky black and white streams. A clamorous roar sent them into spiraling chaos, eventually settling in a vague yin-yang symbol. Coiled around the cosmic pictogram, a celestial bronze serpent manifested from unreality, its draconic head a blur of revolution.

"Ouroboros?"

Eternal concepts—space and time, foremost among them—are rigid. Strict. Immutable.

They do not take kindly to disobedience. Punish defiance with exile. Evict unruly tenants to damnation beyond eternity.

Mother sustains this practice.

Father interjected, convincing Mother to make an exception.

The first and last among infinity.

You have been warned.

You have been praised.

You have been blessed.

Never again.

**

Karma blinked awake, assaulted by a rancid stench. Lain on his side, he observed a puddle of mucus, tears, sweat, blood, and the cavalry king's desecrated corpse.

It was disgusting.

But he felt so, so tired.

"You may speak," Karma muttered hoarsely, relieved to find he could.

"Can you clue me in on what just occured?"

"Amnesty."

"From whom? For what?"

"I know very little. And, if I tell you what I do know, we will suffer an excruciating fate unique throughout the myriad realms."

"... Please don't."

"Sure. If you behave."

They shared a nervous chuckle.

**

Karma, still soaked in the revolting syrup, hobbled back to the throne room proper. Collapsing on an adjoining pillar, he spared a brief probe at his cultivation base.

Ninth-level Qi Formation, that's nice. And, linearity acceleration—

"Huh!?"

"Is there something wrong?"

"Not exactly? Come out, it's easier if I just show you."

"Alright."

Flashing a rueful smile, Karma snapped his fingers, abruptly becoming transparent.

Simultaneously, another Karma apparition scooched out from him—also transparent.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Ah, cloning! One of the great milestones of any cultivation journey. Congrat—"

"It's not a clone," said Karma#1.

"Come again?"

"It's not a clone," said Karma#2.

"Ridiculous! If it's not a clone, then—shit."

...

"Your Attunement is linearity, yes?"

"Correct. My Attunement was linearity," replied no-longer-plural Karma.

"And now?"

"Non-linearity."

"No, seriously."

...

"You've had your fun. Tell me what it is."

...

"Please?"

**

"How about a demonstration?" Karma summoned his standard azure saber atop his left hand, narrating, "This is without my affinity.

"Now, here it is again with my affinity."

He casually brandished his right index finger at a faraway column.

Sfft!

Crash!

And cleaved it cleanly in half.

"Make sense?"

"Absolutely not."

Sigh—"10 millennia-my-ass. Fine, what does a blade do?"

"It slices."

"What happens to the object on the receiving end?"

"They get sliced."

"Right. Slicing is the cause, sliced is the effect. If you removed the intermediary—or, linearity—between them, what's changed?"

"It goes from an action to a concept ... Oh." Anlîthëma wormed back onto its spatial pouch. "That's Qilin-shit. You're Qilin-shit. Your whole family is Qilin-shit."

**

"Hey, would you say my robes are dyed indigo?"

"Loosely—why?"

"Erinyes—the Penumbra Effigy prodigy—left her challenge realm. I've yet to upset all four sects yet, and I am nothing if not fair."

"And that's the only reason? Completely unrelated to your sudden power-up?"

"Yep, diametrically opposed—my goal embodies judicious political maneuvering at its purest."

"Mhm."

**

In a fertile, forested slope, Erinyes emerged amid the foliage of a plum blossom. Deftly gliding to the earth, she retrieved an ornate silken mural from her spatial pouch, combining it with a veneer sheet.

Zip.

Schrödinger's Crucible, ever impatient, nigh-instantly claimed its Promise.

Ninth stage of Qi Formation. Sister, I hope you've been washing your neck for me. I'm coming.

"Oh?" Erinyes's pupils dilated. Calling on her shadow Attunement, she dispersed into a wispy pool.

Boom!

Gathering at the lip of a hollowed crater, she glared intently at its smoky pit. "State your identity, usurper."

A peal of guttural laughter swept the foggy vista into clarity, heralding the bulky, shirtless aspect of a man with indigo trousers. "I am Josiah of the Winged Bellicosi Sect, wielder of air and wind. Tell me, what is your favorite fruit?"

How droll, another belligerent fool overestimating himself.

Subtly shaking her head, she rasped, "Very well, Josiah. I'll humor you: my favorite fruit is pomegranate."

The bulging behemoth tilted his head—crowned by jet-black hair tied in a bun—a forlorn tear wetting his cheek. "It wasn't meant to be. You ... like a fruit with seeds. We're simply incompatible."

Perplexedly scrunching her brows, Erinyes replied, "I suppose I'm unlucky?"

"Yes. Yes, you are."

**

"What's with the theatrics?" transmitted Anlîthëma, floating on a plum blossom branch. "Your conduct is borderline disgraceful."

Karma#2, fulfilling his duties of Ouroboric disguise and babysitting, explained, "When faced with an idiot, suspicion is unknowingly clouded by disdain. For instance, if a man defecates on your head, the man must be malicious. However, if it were a pigeon, one subconsciously assumes their misfortune responsible."

"I ... hadn't thought of that."

"That's fair. I only just thought of it myself. Oh, by the way, what's your favorite fruit?"

"You're an awful person. Be ashamed of yourself and all that you stand for."

"Exotic taste, my friend! I'm more of an apricot man myself."

**

Erinyes reconfigured her hands into Nightlurker Wolf claws, their obsidian luster supplanting color with pitch void. A similar metamorphosis altered her legs into maestros of propulsion.

"Let's get this done quickly, alright? I have juniors expecting my assistance."

Erinyes arched forward, sundering the rim of the earthen bowl with a mighty leap. Her arcing razors swiped at the hoodlum's bared chest.

Reflected in Erinyes's irises, her prey amateurishly swung a clenched fist like a club, a stupid grin plastered on his face.

He's dead.

WHOOM.

Erinyes tumbled backward, razing pink petals and fertile soil in her wake. Trees buckled to her unyielding momentum, each rupturing against the sheened carapace of a Black Tortoise.

How!?

**

"Was that an application of Penelope's speed concept?" inquired Anlîthëma, sharing a pile of steam buns with Karma#2.

"Yup. Karma#1 didn't lie to her, wind is—fundamentally—fast-moving air."

"She's a tough one, though. Not bad, not bad at all."

"Agreed."

**

Erinyes climbed out from a pile of timber, stretching her aching ligaments in a series of pops. A harsh breeze buffeted as Josiah arrived a dozen steps away.

She smirked.

Guess I'll have to exert myself a little.

Leathery wings sprouted from Erinyes's back, lifting her above the forest canopy. She exchanged her left claws for Vermillion Bird talons, slashing crescents of red-tinged conflagration at Josiah's earth-bound figure.

"Well, aren't you versatile?"

Behind!

Swiveling with arms crossed defensively, a roundhouse kick punted her into a meteoric descent. Having learned from their initial clash, Erinyes expanded an umbral basin at her crash site, teleporting into a lightless dimension. Navigating on instinct, she tunneled a return path at Josiah's rear, her gaping maw that of a Taotie's.

Crunch!

Erinyes's barbed teeth ripped into vacant air. She sensed an iron grip clasp each of her shins.

Then she was spinning in massive arcs, the centripetal force driving blood to brain in nauseous torrents.

The grip about her legs slackened. Her mind felt a dizzied stranger, unable to execute the complex shadow techniques she'd used just prior.

The ensuing impact shot Erinyes's eardrums, shredded wings to bone, and buried her in heaps of upturned debris. Lucidity became a fleeting commodity, fast escaping her rattled awareness.

"Remember this," she heard through partial deafness. "I am Josiah. I like bananas!"

Erinyes relinquished her wakefulness.

Anything to shut him up.